


From Fiction to Fate

by Jordan_Ilias



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Platonic Female/Female Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-10-19 10:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jordan_Ilias/pseuds/Jordan_Ilias
Summary: Jordan Ilias is a quiet band nerd, living the best life she can with a hyperactive 10-year-old brother.Raegan Jonera is the leader of a rebel organization, just trying to make a better life for her and her girlfriend.So what happens when worlds collide and bodies switch?Follow the two as they try to make it back to their own worlds and bodies - before it's too late.





	1. Chapter 1

Raegan Jonera stood up and stretched her wings, finally done cleaning her equipment. Her goggles were crystal clear, and her knives glistened in the mid-morning sun. She unwrapped the deep purple satin ribbon from her neck and wiped her forehead. She stretched her wings out and sighed with pleasure as she looked around the camp of rebels. As the sole medic for the whole camp in the aftermath of the “Battle of the Wall”, Rae had to test all of the serums on herself. She credited her serums and potions to RAAH - the Rebel Alliance for the Advancement of Humans. With her new wings, they had offered her a position on the reconnaissance team. She had turned them down to stay behind and care for her camp.

As the only tester, sometimes the concoctions had some, say, _interesting_ side effects. The wings were among the more advantageous ones, as they helped Rae get around much faster. However, this effect was taking the longest to get used to. Many nights, she was plagued with unbearable pain in her back. She had always written it off as adjusting to the wings. However, with her wings being several months old, the pain was slowly dulling. As Rae rose shakily to her feet, her girlfriend Arlo Rotella appeared in front of her. She helped Rae to her feet and pecked her on the cheek. “Good morning babe.”

“Ow,” Rae grimaced. “Watch the wings. And good morning love,” she said. She kissed Arlo, for real this time. Rae was pleased to see Arlo so happy. She didn’t smile much since her brother, Dav Rotello, had died in the battle for a better world. Besides taking care of the camp, Rae’s number one priority was Arlo. Taking care of people was, to say, her prime directive. As they kissed, Arlo tangled her fingers into Rae’s hair, messing up her bun. “Hey man, what the heck?” Rae said as she pulled away with mock indignance. “I spent like a whole 2 minutes on that today!” Arlo laughed, a short, harsh bark that was the sweetest sound in the world to Rae.

“I’ll let you finish putting your equipment away, and I’ll see you in half an hour for medical. It’s recruit day,” Arlo gave her one last quick kiss. Rae sighed and began to absentmindedly collect her things and head towards her den. She set the knives carefully in their canvas wrap and into the hole she had excavated in the soft walls. She reached for the goggles resting on her head, then decided to leave them on. Normally the experienced rebels need the protection with the new recruits. Rae grabbed her medkit, pulled down her goggles, and went to join Arlo on the plateau.

On the way there, Rae was intercepted by Daimon, one of the newest recruits. Towering above Rae’s five-foot-one frame, he stood at a lanky six-foot-five. He had a moderate limp. In his usual barely-audible murmur, he said, “Rae, my knee is popping every time I take a step. It’s extremely painful, what should I do?”

“Try this,” Rae said, pulling a lilac-colored poultice out of her satchel. “It’s rose extract and vanilla. It should reduce the pain and swelling long enough for me to get back from medical. I’ll take care of you then. Go make yourself comfortable on one of the mats in my den.”

Daimon gratefully took the concoction and drank it. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” He waved and began to trudge back to camp, limping less by the second. She smiled and continued on her way.

Rae finally reached Arlo on the plateau, where she was covering her ears. Rae fought against the debris towards her, eyes squinted. The new recruit had come over the wall in a crate, the most common way. A helicopter drops them from about 50 feet, and half of them don’t survive the fall. _Arlo knows she gets the toughest recruits because they’re the ones who can survive the fall,_ Rae thought. With the limited supply of “failed” serum she gets, Rae can normally heal the survivors within a week. She had almost perfected the reproduction formula, so she won’t rely on RAAH anymore. Rae uncovered her eyes as the noise subsided. They approached the crate and saw the lid rattle. The recruit was alive: good. Slowly, a small, shrewd-looking girl with the distinct “aged up” purple tinge around her lips emerged from the crate. Being that the tinge was purple, Rae realized that she wasn’t straight off the block thrown out. She had probably been thrown out around 16 or 17: about the same age as Dav…

The new girl had bright orange hair and a dash of freckles across her nose. Black eyes that seemed to reflect the very essence of the universe looked around. She was quite gorgeous. She saw Rae and Arlo and immediately shrunk back, as though they would hurt her. Arlo and Rae looked at each other and Rae nodded. She approached the girl cautiously. “Get away from me!” she squeaked, voice high and panicked. “I’m fine, I don’t need your help!”

“Yes, you do,” Rae said, watching the girl wince and clutch her knee. “It looks like you have a shattered patella, but we can fix that. You just need to trust me,” She held out her hand, and the girl stared at it. Rae looked imploringly at her, and the redheaded girl slowly reached out a pale slender hand to meet Rae’s dark and calloused one. As soon as their hands met, the fire-haired girl wrenched Rae forward. Caught off guard, she had no choice but to allow herself to be pulled along. Only after the girl had judo flipped her did Rae finally recover enough senses to retaliate. She feinted left, and the redhead followed. Rae swooped the girl up and pressed her solar plexus and forehead. She slumped in Rae’s arms, all but disabled with the activation of her pressure points. “Look,” Rae said sternly, meeting the smaller girl’s eyes. “I have no idea how you caught me off guard, but I don’t give in that easily. You are coming with us because I want you to survive. Okay?”

The redhead narrowed her eyes, but eventually spat out “Fine.”

“Thank you,” Rae said. “Now, what is your name?”

“Amaia,” she said, relaxing slightly in Rae’s arms.

“I’m Raegan, you can call me Rae. That’s Arlo,” Rae said, gesturing to her girlfriend. “With your obvious skills, I think you could quickly rise the ranks of our alliance. So how did you manage to do that?”

Amaia blushed. “Well, if you must know, my dad was a namakarne,” Rae gasped. Namakarnes were the most elite military officers, rarely ever were their kids in the human reject pile. “He spent all his life telling me 3 words: trust no one. Eventually, he ended up...” Amaia sniffed, the memory weighing heavy on her slender shoulders. “He ended up wandering off chasing bombs no one else could hear. I never saw him again.”

“Wow. That actually explains a lot,” Raegan said. “What did you do to get kicked out of Tijerah?”

“Well, my mom was an alcoholic, as well as a successful government worker,” Amaia grumbled. “I hid her alcohol, and she turned me in for treason against the city. And now I’m here!” She gave a sarcastic smile, followed by an eye roll for the gods.

Rae could feel her heart melting for this girl, the girl with no parents to love her, destined to be the same age for the foreseeable future. At that moment, Rae vowed to fix this somehow, whatever it took. “How about this: Arlo will take you to camp and introduce you to the rest of the recruits. You can lie down and sleep for a while and I’ll give you an exam when you wake up. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” Amaia yawned.

“Oh by the way,” Rae smiled.

“Welcome to Akimfa.”

Amaia smiled, and Rae was overcome with emotion. Love and happiness for this new recruit filled her. The three walked back to camp in amiable silence, Arlo and Rae supporting Amaia between them. As they finally entered the camp, Arlo shouted in a commanding voice, “New recruit, emergency med! Everyone out of the way!” A path opened toward Rae’s den, and she blinked gratefully at Arlo. She carefully hefted the red-head and staggered to an empty mat on the dirt floor. She knelt and carefully laid the half-conscious Amaia down, setting her head gently on the flattened cotton pillow. Before Rae could say so much as goodnight, Amaia was already gently snoring.

Raegan attempted to regain her footing but swooned. No one seemed to notice. She grabbed the wall to steady herself. She filled a glass of water and tipped her head back to drink, but as her lips parted, a black hand covered them. It wasn’t quite solid, just a hand of shadows. She panicked and began to struggle. The shadow hand pushed harder and harder against her jaw, with so much force she thought it might break her. Mercifully, the hand drew back. As it did, however, shadowy tendrils wrapped around Rae's legs, hissing the same words.

_You can’t fight fate._

Rae strained against her shadowy bonds, but to no avail. The voices grew louder and louder until a symphony of terrors was filling her mind.

_You can’t fight fate. You can’t fight fate! YOU CAN’T FIGHT FATE!_

Rae made one last attempt to break free but failed. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she passed out in a dead faint.

* * *

 

The last note of the James Bond theme song rang out over the football field. Applause from the rest of the bands and the people in the stands filled the air. Jordan Ilias stood by the china cymbal, her face blank. She could see her parents in the stands, clapping for her. Her little brother was flashing her two thumbs up. She was incredibly confused as to why though, because she hadn’t played a single note that evening. Why not? Centennial High School, the hosts, had failed to provide her instrument: the timpani. Not that anyone had bothered to tell her anyway. Not that she was bitter. Sarcastic? Jordan? _Never._

By the time she and the rest of the band got off the field, Jordan was mentally and physically exhausted. She could not wait to change out of her tuxedo, go home and sleep. Unfortunately, she still had to watch Centennial’s performance. The _Star Wars_ themed band marched onto the field, taking their places. The cadence stopped and the drum majors began to conduct. They played an unmemorable medley of songs from the franchise. Mercifully, the drum majors cut off for the last time and the emcee dismissed the bands. Jordan sighed with relief and picked up her trap table. She walked from the field as fast as her tired legs could carry her. Up the hill, across the street, into the doorway. Go straight to the vending machines, turn right at the sign, right again to the dressing room.

Jordan dodged people as she entered cramped room. She made a sharp turn into the corner where she left her garment bag and took off her tuxedo jacket. Danielle Kim, second marimba, initiated conversation, continuing one left open earlier that day. “So we agree that cymbals are the ideal music weapon, right?”

Jordan smiled weakly, all she could muster at that point. “Absolutely. Smash in a head or two, make some noise, or sharpen it into an arrow. What else can it do?”

“You could throw it like a disc,” Sandy, a drumline girl, interjected.

“True!” Danielle laughed. Jordan nodded, vaguely awake, and folded her uniform over its hanger. She sighed and once again wished she were at home. Almost, she thought to herself. Her thoughts wandered to the snare that she was secretly crushing on. Of course, she wasn’t gonna tell anybody who it was: They would laugh at her. _Not to mention he’s way out of my league,_ she thought bitterly. She zipped up her garment bag, slipped on her flip-flops, grabbed the trap table one last time, and exited into the hallway.

Jordan absently walked into somebody. She mumbled an apology, and her friend Tibor Mester responded, “It’s okay. I’m tired too.” Grateful that he understood, she smiled and watched the doors of the dressing rooms. As she waited for everybody to come out, she vaguely registered her first coherent thought in a while. _Why in the actual hell am I so damn tired? It’s not even 9:00 pm yet!_ The snare came out of the boy’s room, and Jordan blushed and turned away. _I can’t let him catch me watching: how embarrassing would that be?_

When all of the band kids had finally emerged from the classroom, they all headed toward the exit, and Jordan robotically walked behind Tibor. She was, however, acutely aware of the snare- yes, _the_ snare - walking on her right. He was being loud, obnoxious, and boisterous: as usual. They were qualities that Jordan found absolutely endearing. The band crossed the over the threshold into the cool night air, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The building was hot, almost oppressively so, and Jordan immediately felt better in nature. She carefully stepped down the hill and walked to the bus. She realized she didn’t know which bus to store the trap table in, so she waited until Danielle came down the path. “There you are!” Jordan said. “Where does this thing go?”

“Over here, on this bus,” Danielle replied. She led Jordan toward the emergency exit. The emergency alarm started blaring as soon as they opened the door. Jordan resisted the urge to cover her ears and curl up into a ball. Instead, against her better judgment, she said: “Do you want me to climb up there?” _Why did I say that? What the hell, me?_

Obviously, Danielle replied with, “Yeah, that would be really helpful, thanks.” Fan-FUCKING-tastic. It took Jordan a couple tries, she eventually dragged her tired body onto the bus. She put her trap table under the left seat, and someone passed her the other one. She stacked them and reached down to start grabbing the box of stands. Unfortunately, it was going to be a tight fit. A really tight fit. With the wheels getting stuck and the weight of the box, they had to call an adult to help lift the box into the bus. 5 exhausting minutes later, Jordan hopped down and closed the door, silencing the door’s alarm. She walked over to her bus, garment bag in hand, and stepped up the stairs.

Jordan made her way to the back of the bus, right in front of her friend Eddie Lee. She saw his trumpet in the seat and almost turned around to find another seat until she decided otherwise. “I’m moving your case,” she said. She earned no response except for an eye roll from Eddie, so she assumed it was okay. She pushed his trumpet case to the floor, along with his garment bag. She laid her garment bag atop the whole arrangement and reclined, with her back to the window. That was a mistake. About 2 minutes later, she felt a chill settle over her. She startled away from the window and looked out. She could barely make out a shadowy figure under the trees. She shook her head and looked again, and the figure was gone. _Nope. Nope. Do not want._ She turned back around, facing the inside of the bus, and realized the snare had settled two seats away from her. Awesome. As the bus began to move, Jordan drifted off into a fitful sleep.

During her slumber, Jordan was plagued by nightmares. Shadowy ties and hands, laughing demons, glasses of poison disguised as wine. She tossed and turned in the seat until someone said: “Wake up.”

Jordan barely recognized it and wasn’t sure she knew who it was. All she knew was that 3 trumpet players and the snare were staring at her sleeping form. She shook her head, playing it cool. “I’m awake now!” They all shrugged and left her alone. _What in the hell is wrong with me tonight?_

As the bus pulled up to Reservoir High School, Jordan picked up Eddie’s trumpet case. She dropped it onto his lap, and she heard a muffled “Oof!” behind her. She smirked, laughing at Eddie’s weakness. His tall bony frame couldn’t deal with brass falling on it. She picked up her garment bag and followed the gang of kids out the bus.

Jordan’s dad waved at her from the school doors. She handed her garment bag to him and went inside to pack up the rest of the equipment. She, Danielle, and the rest of the pit packed up the cymbals and trap tables. Jordan stepped out of the doors again and went to her parents. They all walked to the car, and Jordan flopped into her chair with a sigh. “You did great at the showcase today!” her dad said.

“Bite me,” muttered Jordan. “I didn’t do squat, because NO ONE TELLS ME ANYTHING!” She realized her voice was raised far above where it should be, and she took a calming breath. “I just want to go home.”

“Fair enough,” her dad said, wisely giving the conversation a rest. He started up the car and joined the line to get out of the parking lot. As lights flashed and car horns beeped, Jordan found herself getting extremely agitated. Thankfully, a kind soul finally allowed her dad a pass out of the parking lot. As the lights and sounds of the parking lot and the shopping center blurred together, Jordan thought about how comfortable it was going to be laying in her bed, under the blankets, with her fan on full blast.

Soon enough, Jordan was at home, and she mustered all the energy she had so she could climb four flights of stairs.

_Up one._

_Up two._

_Up three, and…_

Her foot touched the landing on the top floor. She turned into her room, turned on the fan, and pulled off her covers. She flicked the light switch and shambled over to her bed. She fell face first into her pillow, but when she couldn’t breathe she flipped over to her back. That was a grave mistake. A shadowy figure stood over her bed, hand hovering over her jaw. She let out a hoarse scream and was quickly smothered by the ginormous shadow hand. She realized that it was literally a shadow hand: it had no substance. Even so, she found it impossible to escape it. She struggled for a while, but fatigue took over and she stopped. Before she slipped out of consciousness, a chorus of voices seemed to swirl around her and envelope her.

 

_Oh, little girl, you thought you were safe,_

_Hidden away, never showing your face._

_But you should have known we would find you one day,_

_For your life is heading only one way._

_Now is the time, go mark the date_

_Where you disappeared forever, for you can’t fight fate._

 

The voices continued to repeat the mantra, voices terrible and hoarse.

_You can’t fight fate._

Jordan felt panic begin to rise in her again, and started to fight back. But a sinking feeling in her gut told her that this was the end.

_You can’t fight fate._

She felt invisible bonds begin to constrict. Her breaths became shorter and shorter, but it eventually became too much. The hand pushed against her jaw and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

While Raegan was unconscious, her spirit exited her body, and an unfamiliar one entered in its place. Then her two eyes opened. A very sarcastic, and very annoyed, “Oh, for the love of the gods,” exited Jordan’s mouth. As she said so, Raegan’s lips - or were they her lips now? - moved with the words. She tried to smack her head in frustration: but found that she couldn’t. A straightjacket pulled her arms to the side. _Oh yeah,_ Jordan thought. _This is just going to suck out loud._

She looked around her new room - if that’s even what it could be called. More like a bunker. Steel walls surrounded her, along with a matching door that could survive World War 3. She was just getting to the door to investigate when it opened. A gruesome, bloodied face with hollow eyes appeared. “Welcome,” they drawled sarcastically. “We’ve been expecting you.”

A few painstakingly slow hours later, Jordan had a couple thoughts running through her head. _So let me get this straight. I’m in my character’s body, I’m trapped 12 feet underground with a spirit and gods know what else, and I’m pretty sure I don’t have my knives. Brilliant. And to add insult to injury, I'm in a straightjacket and on a spiked metal dog leash. Because that makes sense._ And other gems, like, _What’s for dinner? If I’m missing enchiladas, I’m gonna be hella pissed._ Because, of course, her priorities are messed up. But what else is new.

Jordan had figured out the spirit was Micah, the villain from her first attempt at writing. As she pondered the implications of this, Micah abruptly stopped and yanked on the chain he was leading her by. “Pay attention, whelp,” he hissed. She gritted her teeth and walked slowly into the door they had stopped at, resisting the urge to kick some spirit teeth in (Sidenote: Jordan recognized that spirits don’t actually have teeth, they have acids in their mouths that dissolve food so they can digest it, but it’s a metaphor. Work with her, people). As Jordan walked through the door, she groaned as she saw another long hallway stretching out before her.

“How many hallways do you have?” Jordan groaned. “I'm gonna collapse if I have to do more of these.”

“Don't worry, we're almost there,” Micah said, an evil grin spreading across his bloody face. “This is your last hallway.”

Jordan didn't like the way that sounded but did notice that the quality of the hallways was deteriorating. More cobwebs, less light, and the like. Soon after, they reached a door that was darker than the others. Even stranger, it had an intercom next to it. Micah reached over and hit the “talk” button. “Hey boss, we're here. I brought the girl too,” Micah said. A series of mechanical clicks later, the door swung open. Jordan's jaw dropped as she saw what - or rather who - was in the room. A deep, rich voice echoed across the chamber.

"Greetings. You must be Jordan,”

“Wh-? But how do you-?” Realization spread across her face. “No…” Jordan sputtered.

“Yes,” Micah said as he grinned. A figure in a dark cloak sat upon a throne. Jordan’s eyes raked up the arms of the throne, registering but not believing its material. Thousands upon thousands of bones - animal, human, and gods know what else made up this behemoth of a seat. The figure sitting in it was almost more horrible. Clad in a black, shapeless robe, nothing but his face was visible. A mouth kinked upward, a red tinge surrounding it. It could be wine, or it could be something much worse. Jordan chose to believe the former. As her eyes traveled upward still, the vision only got worse. Mismatched eyes stared down at her, boring into her soul. One was luminous green, the other hollow and bloody like Micah’s.

“Welcome to your own personal hell, Jordan Ilias. I believe we may have some catching up to do.”

The black cloak dropped to the floor, revealing a tall, gray-skinned man. His long brown hair was tied back into a bun, and crimson beads of - something - dripped from his hollow eye and mouth. Jordan gawked at the man, mouth slack.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Who the fuck are you?”

He smiled enigmatically.“I am the embodiment of your ideal villain. You may call me whatever you like, though I do prefer Zev. Everyone sees me differently. Out of curiosity, what do you see?”

With her usual sass, Jordan responded: “I see a douchebag in a tacky purple velour suit and a red tie that I’d like to strangle him with.” Zev laughed. “Oh, you’re funny. I like you. Unfortunately though, strangling me isn’t exactly possible. You’re a little, ah…” He gestured at her jacket. “Tied up at the moment. Regardless, I’m guessing you want information, so here is all that I will give you. You are currently at none-of-your-damn-business,” Jordan rolled her eyes. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell her their location. “The only people here are Micah and me,” _Yeah right,_ Jordan thought. _A, you’re not people, and B, there’s no way in hell you are the only ones here. Next._ “You are stuck here, you have no chance at escape, and you can't overpower us.”

Jordan pondered this for a moment, wondering how she was going to get out of this mess. There had to be a way to get out of here…right? But as she thought, a darker question crossed her mind.

“Wait…what happened to Rae?”

Zev grinned, his face contorting into a gruesome smile. “Well if you’re here, where do you think she is?” He continued to bare his sharpened bloodstained teeth until the realization crossed Jordan’s face. She quickly wiped her face, resuming her calm composure and sassy shell. She sunk into a bow, and mumbled, “Thanks.” Zev adjusted his cuffs and checked his silver-plated watch. “Now I’m terribly sorry, but I do have to run. Other people to torture, other deities to destroy. I would love to stay and chat, but…” He spread his arms. “I simply don’t have the time. I’ll let my lovely assistant here do the honors.

Micah cleared his throat and looked expectantly at the man. “Uh...Zev...I thought we agreed on calling me your colleague.”

A flash of annoyance crossed the tall man’s face. “You will go by what I decide to call you, _Homyni_.”

Jordan almost gasped. Calling spirits by their human names was one of the highest insults one could achieve, but it was especially bad with Micah, as he transitioned from a female body and name to a male spirit and name. Micah scowled but wisely bit his tongue. Unfortunately, Zev was probably Micah’s boss, and it would be wise to not speak out against his superior. Resuming his cool exterior, Zev made a short bow to Jordan and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Micah faced Jordan, and muttered, “Come on. Let’s go back.”

On the way back to the bunker, Micah was obviously seething. Jordan hesitated, then said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Micah snapped.

Jordan cast her eyes downward. “For what Zev did. He was a real jackass, using your female name like that. I know what that feels like.”

Micah stared at Jordan, long but not necessarily mean. Finally, he broke the silence and said “Yeah, well… thanks. I guess.” Jordan smiled slightly. She was lost in her own thoughts, wondering who was stuck in this world with her. _I think I’m going to call this the literary world. It just feels right._ Completely departed, Jordan didn’t notice when Micah stopped and ended up choking herself on the leash.

“Sorry,” Micah mumbled. 

Jordan’s heart absolutely broke right then, looking at this spirit. He was supposed to be her enemy, and yet she found it impossible to hate him. He was misunderstood and mistreated: things that Jordan could personally relate to. She looked at Micah, and he stared right back. An understanding passed between them, an understanding that transcended the bounds of thought. She then stepped over the threshold and the solid metal door sealed her in. 

_Lovely,_ Jordan thought. _More time alone with my thoughts_. She stumbled over to the sturdy steel wall and slid down to the floor. One advantage of being a secretive and moody kid: you learn how to pay attention, to the environment and yourself. Jordan resumed her examination of the room, trying to figure out what she could do to escape. One look at the door showed that that wasn’t an option: 10-inch thick steel wasn’t exactly a promising escape plan. She could try to escape through the ceiling, as it was made of wood rather than steel, but it might have been enforced with steel. Besides, Jordan had no way to get up there, as it was about 50 feet tall. There were no doors or windows. _Almost like I’m in an asylum_ , Jordan thought.

As she began to stand up, she froze. Something was definitely off. She stood, balancing herself. As she focused on the feeling of uneasiness, it grew, expanding until she heard a small pop behind her. She whirled around and came face-to-face with a dappled gray Arabian horse. Mounted upon the steed was a fiery-haired girl with lustrous golden eyes. A silver sword gleamed on her back, and a brown satchel swung down from her horse’s back.

“Hello,” said the girl. “Let’s get you out of this hellhole, shall we?”


	3. Chapter 3

Raegan opened her eyes to see a bright yellow orb flying at her. She shrieked and braced herself for impact. But instead of feeling a sharp pain as the ball hit her, she heard a satisfying _thwack_. She looked at her hands in bewilderment and realized she was holding a baseball bat. So that means…

“HOME RUN!” A high-pitched voice squealed. Raegan snapped her head to the source of the sound and saw a young boy. He looked about ten, but a small ten. He was thin and short, and his black shorts and green T-shirt hung loosely off of his bony frame. A mop of thin brown hair was tamed by a baseball cap. Black sneakers pounded the pavement as he ran towards Rae, tennis ball in hand.

Rae tensed up and immediately readied herself for a fight. But instead of running up and punching her, the boy did something Rae wasn’t prepared for; he hugged her. “Good hit, Jordan!” He stepped back and beamed at an immensely confused Rae.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The boy looked at her like she had grown another head. “I just said good hit. You got it all the way down the alley!” For the first time, Rae looked around. She was standing in front of a tan fence, and next to an open garage. Townhouses lined the street and both sides of the alley. This was nowhere near Akimfa, or Tijerah for that matter. Rae swooned on her feet and fell face-first into the cement. The boy rushed over to her. “Woah! It’s time for a water break. Let’s go inside.”

“Wait…” Rae struggled to her feet. “Before we go inside, please tell me…what is your name?”

The boy stopped in his tracks. He looked hurt. “You…you don’t remember my name?”

Rae immediately felt bad. “Please, let me explain-”

“It’s Christopher.” He averted his eyes and dipped his chin. “You really must have hit your head hard to not remember your own little brother.” He walked into the garage, slamming the door behind him. Rae followed as quickly as her throbbing head would let her. She traversed the small yard littered with tennis balls, no doubt from past games of alley baseball. She entered the house and stopped as a jarring _beep beep_ signaled her presence.

Christopher sat at the island, and a woman who Rae assumed was his mother paced around the kitchen. She was average height, and very fit-looking. Her reddish-blond hair was pulled back in a tight bun on her head. Her gray sweatshirt and black sweatpants fit her perfectly. “Hey, Jess! We’re making tacos tonight, do you want to help make ‘em?”

“Um…” Rae wasn’t sure how to respond. “I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I haven’t eaten a proper meal in years. But, ma’am, who are you? Do I know you?”

The woman’s face fell. “Jess, it’s me. Amy. Your mother. Don’t tell me you forgot?”

Christopher replied sullenly. “She hit her head. She doesn’t remember us.”

“But that’s not why,” Rae said hurriedly. “But the real answer is kinda crazy though. I’d be happy to explain, but tacos do sound nice.” Rae looked pleadingly at the woman claiming to be her mother. Amy contemplated for a  moment, then smiled sadly. “Dinner is in an hour. Go clean yourself up.”

“Thank you, thank you so much.” Rae intoned. She dashed up the stairs, in a house that seemed familiar yet foreign at the same time. Her feet moved on their own accord, taking her to the bathroom. She shut and locked the door behind her, then turned to the mirror and screamed.

Pink hair fell into her face, sides shaved close. Round glasses sat on the bridge of her freckled nose. She wore a simple black T-shirt with a mysterious symbol on it. Big white letters spelled out _Fall Out Boy._ She looked down and saw ripped blue jeans and black combat boots. Her face was covered with a dark substance, what Rae hoped wasn’t blood.

Rae remembered what Amy had said and began to clean herself. She turned on the faucet to its coldest setting and sighed as the cool stream ran over her hands and wrists. She splashed some of the liquid onto her face. The runoff was dark brown with small particles. _Phew… just dirt._ She continued to scrub her face until the water ran clear.

After a few minutes, Rae sighed. _I should probably take a shower too… gods, I forgot how nice indoor plumbing is._ She leaned over the tub to reach the controls, and after a few seconds of fumbling got the water to turn on. She peeled off her shirt, unzipped her boots, and pulled down her jeans before stepping into the steaming water.

Half an hour later, Rae wrapped herself in a towel and walked across the hall into a bedroom. It looked to belong to an adolescent: untidy, clothes littering the floor, and dog hair everywhere. A full body mirror was revealed as the door swung gently shut. She felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity, but she couldn’t quite place it.

Robotically, as if she had done this a thousand times before, Rae reached for the handle of a drawer on a scuffed white bureau. A disorganized pile of clothes greeted her as she pulled it open. She rifled through it until she grabbed hold of a simple pair of black leggings. Tossing them aside onto the bed, she continued to look through the clothes. Eventually, her hand settled on a lightweight gray sweatshirt. The words _Outer Banks_ outlined blue whale on the front, and white drawstrings were tangled in the hood. She gently closed the drawer and opened the one below it to grab a basic purple bra and matching underwear.

Rae dressed unhurriedly. When she was clothed, she turned to face the mirror and sighed. Her new body wasn’t much different than her real one. She was slightly taller, about five-foot-two. Her hips dipped inwards, making a soft hourglass shape. Her legs tapered nearly to a point at thin ankles. _Quite a desirable figure,_ thought Rae. _Why couldn’t I have been made this way?_ With one last glance in the mirror, she opened the door and headed downstairs.

Sitting at the island were Amy and Christopher, along with another adolescent girl. The new girl was larger than Rae. She had strawberry-blond hair, so Rae assumed she was the daughter of Amy as well, which would make her…

“Sister?”

The girl’s head snapped toward Rae. Her misty blue eyes widened in shock. “You recognize me?” Hope glimmered behind her sad expression. “It’s me, Anna. Your sister. Your best friend. Please tell me you remember me…”

“Oh gods, no,” Rae hurriedly corrected herself. “I simply used deductive reasoning to figure out that if this woman claims to be my mother-” She stopped abruptly as she realized she was rambling. “Sorry, let me try this again. I think you all deserve an explanation of what is happening. Or at least, my take on it.”

“That would be nice, yes,” replied Amy, crossing her arms. “So what exactly is your take?” The three people sitting at the island all looked toward Rae. She took a deep breath, then began.

“The way I appear to you now is not who I am. My name is Raegan Jonera, and it appears that my consciousness is inhabiting your daughter-” Rae paused, nodding to the two children. “-or sister. I am the medic of a rebel camp in a land called Akimfa. I am a young woman, about 20 years old. I am going to be sorely missed, and I really need to get back.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Rae said. “But I promise you it’s the truth. And I would really, really love to get back from wherever this is.” She gesticulated wildly, then fixed a pleading gaze on the three. “So please, will you believe me and help me get back?”

Amy, Christopher, and Anna all looked at Rae with blank looks. Finally, Christopher piped up. “Well, that can’t be right.”

“What?” Rae looked at him incredulously. “Why not?”

“Well it’s simple,” Amy replied. “Jordan is an author.

“And you just described her newest story.”

* * *

 

Jordan gaped at the redhead in front of her. “Ok, I’ll bite. Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Farryn Mohatu,” she said, dismounting from her steed. “I was sent here to help you get out of this-” She waved her arms around her head. “Whatever this is.”

Jordan snorted. “Well, unless you have some sort of magic transportation device, we’re stuck here. I’m pretty sure I don’t even have my knives, so I can’t murder anyone.” She glared at Farryn. “Consider yourself lucky.”

Farryn sighed. “Truly, Jordan, are you _really_ going to hate me this soon? I was at least hoping to get out of here before you start mouthing off at me.”

That stopped Jordan in her tracks. “How did you know my real name?”

“I know all of your secrets, Jordan Ilias,” Farryn said, stepping ever closer to Jordan’s surprised face. “So it would do you well not to cross me.”

Jordan, still shocked, nodded her head. “Good,” Farryn said, cheerful again. “Now what were you saying about your knives?” She pulled a canvas wrap out of her horse’s satchel. Jordan gasped and reached for them, forgetting she was still in her jacket. She toppled over and fell flat on her face.

Farryn sniggered. “Let me help you with that hon.” She bent down and severed the arms of the jacket. Jordan hauled herself off of the cold floor, sighing with relief. “I love being able to move.”

Farryn rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dork, Ilias.”

Jordan smirked. _I might not be as strong or smart as her, but at least I can annoy her to death._ “So what’s the plan, O Great and Powerful Farryn?”

Farryn muttered something in a language Jordan didn’t understand, probably something along the lines of _Why me?_ “Well, there’s a town called Ortasi’da, it’s about a day’s walk from here. It’s a pretty small town, but it has everything you would need. An inn, clothing stores, a general store, an armory, even a stable for River.” She patted her horse’s flank.

“Yeah, ok, that’s all fine and good,” Jordan said. “But there is that whole glaring problem of _we’re in a bunker surrounded by 10-inch thick steel._ There is literally no way to get out.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Farryn laughed. “Watch this.” She unsheathed her sword and held it up to the light until it was glowing electric blue. She then hurried over to the door and ran her blade around the edge. As Jordan stared in amazement, the door slowly creaked open. Farryn gestured grandly at the now-open door. “Voila.”

“Ok, yeah,” Jordan said, barely able to overcome the shock. “That’s pretty freakin’ impressive.”

Farryn smirked with pride. “Glad I could rock your world.” She sheathed her sword on her back and vaulted onto River. He trotted up to Jordan, and Farryn offered her a hand. “Hold on,” Jordan said. She ran to the door and peeked outside. “Okay, we're good.” She darted back to Farryn and clambered onto River. “What was that about?” The redhead asked.

“I wanted to make sure no one was guarding us. I guess they underestimated the power of having an outside helper.” Jordan smiled at Farryn. “Now on to victory!”

“Not quite, chipper skipper,” Farryn said sternly. “First of all, you’re gonna need these.” She handed Jordan the wrap containing her knives, which she then tucked into her jacket. “And second, I don't know which way to go. You have to lead.”

“What?!” Jordan slid off the back of River in shock. “Why me? I don't know the way any better than you do!”

“Yes, you do,” Farryn replied. “You created this place. Feel it deep inside your chest. You _know_ this place.” Farryn gazed at the other girl from atop her steed. A warm tingling sensation filled Jordan up. She closed her eyes. She felt her left foot lift off the cold floor and plant itself 2 feet ahead of where it was. The other foot followed suit, hitting hard against the metal as it moved forward. “OW!” Jordan exclaimed. But her feet didn’t register pain: they were on a mission now. They started to pick up speed, heading for the doorway. “Farryn?” Jordan said uneasily, voice shaking.

“It’s working! Yes, keep doing that!” Farryn replied.

“NOT FREAKING HELPING, FARRYN!” Jordan exclaimed, her feet pinwheeling comically. Farryn laughed and spurred River on, following the out-of-control Jordan. They traveled down endless hallways, Jordan caterwauling the whole time until she began to slow down. “I think we’re close, Farryn.” With her feet slowing down, Jordan began to be more talkative. “Can I call you Goldie? Because of your eyes?”

“Absolutely not,” Farryn replied, her body rocking with the slow movement of River.

“Alright Goldie,” Jordan replied. As her feet slowed to a complete stop, she looked around. “I don’t understand. This is a deserted hallway. What’s so special about this?”

Farryn frowned. “I do.” Farryn dismounted from River and began to pace. “You need to find the switch. Now, where did she put it…?”

“Who is she?”

“Hopefully, you’ll find out soon enough,” Farryn muttered distractedly. As she continued to mutter to herself, Jordan ran her hands against the walls. Her long, dark fingers brushed over the rough cement, and pale dust drifted to the floor. She tuned out Farryn’s chatter and focused on the sensation on her finger pads. Closing her eyes, she continued to walk. At nearly the corner, she felt a subtle shift in texture. She looked over at Farryn, who was still muttering about switches and cursing under her breath. And then, something underneath the wall began to whirr.

“SHUT IT GOLDIE!” Jordan screamed. Farryn stopped in her tracks and stared at Jordan, who rolled her eyes in annoyance. “I found something, but it’s quiet, so you’re going to have to shut the hell up.” Jordan focused once again, and her finger pads bounced slightly on the wall. _I wonder…_ Jordan splayed her hands on the wall and slowly applied pressure to them. The piece of wall sunk about a half an inch and the hallway began to fall apart. “WHAT. THE HELL. IS HAPPENING?!” Jordan looked around in awe and terror as the cement walls and floors dissolved, revealing a plushly furnished office, complete with a cherry wood desk and blood red shag carpet.

“Perfect! Good job, Jess.” Farryn went up to a small silver bell that at upon the desk and rang it twice. A door opened behind them, and the pair turned. A tall olive-skinned young woman emerged from a door of shadows. Her jet-black hair was pulled taut in a high ponytail

”Arlo?”


	4. Chapter 4

Rae gaped at Amy. “What?”

“Yeah, come to think of it, she’s right,” mused Anna. “I remember you - I mean, Jo - telling me about it.”

Utterly shellshocked, Rae continued to stare open-mouthed at the trio. “So…what are you saying?”

“Well isn’t it obvious? You’re not real. You’re just a character. Duh.” Christopher said with the bluntness only children can provide.

Rae’s head dropped into her hands. “But…Arlo…” She seemed unable to finish her thought.

Realization crossed across Amy’s face. “Oh, your girlfriend…yes, I can’t imagine the shock you’re feeling right now. We kind of did just say you don’t exist, didn’t we?”

Rae nodded absently. The four of them sat in silence for an uncomfortably long time. “I just don’t understand…that life is all I know…and you’re telling me that I am confined by the words of a teenager?”

“Clearly not, though,” Anna said. “Jo hasn’t written on that story in years. But you’ve obviously survived and built your own life beyond the story. Of course, that means that there’s a possibility that every single character -”

“Don’t go there,” Amy said, rubbing her temples. “Too much right now.”

‘But what you’ve said makes sense,” Rae mused. “I suppose that makes me an interdimensional creature. Perhaps a literary dimension?”

“Sure, whatever,” Amy said distractedly. “But that still leaves one huge problem. How are we going to get you back there?”

Everyone thought for a moment. A heavy silence settled onto the four.

“Well, shit.”

“CHRISTOPHER!” Amy scolded her son and Anna laughed as she watched her little brother get chewed out. Rae smiled slightly, then returned to her thoughts. _She made a great point…how the hell am I supposed to get home?_ She started to panic. _What if I never get home?_ _What if I never see Arlo again?_ _And for gods’ sake,_ _WHAT IF HOME DOESN’T EXIST?_

Abruptly, Rae stood up. “I need to go to the bathroom.” She dashed upstairs and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She sank to the floor, clutching her head between her knees. She breathed heavily, sitting still until she realized that her breathing wasn't the only sound. Thousands of voices whispered and swirled around her. She held her breath as one whisper began to stand out against the chorus.

 

_ So you wish to go back to your own domain, _

_ Heed this verse, or here you’ll remain. _

_ Find the stone of four ancient powers, _

_ Wear it ‘round your neck for hours. _

_ Keep it there ‘til the quest is finished _

_ Lest your health does ever diminish. _

_ But you are not quite done, for you must prep _

_ For one last journey, the final step. _

_ Return to the place of the dawn of ages, _

_ Find the tome and flip through the pages. _

_ And when the final sheet is turned _

_ To your world, you will return. _

 

The whispers slowly faded until Rae was left with nothing but a feeling of emptiness and lightheadedness. As she finally realized she was still holding her breath, she exhaled slowly. She felt the blood flow back to her head, and with it came coherent brain function.  _ Did I just hear a prophecy? What am I going to do about it if I did? Am I going crazy? _

A sudden banging on the door startled Rae out of her thoughts. Amy’s voice permeated the cracks in the door. “Jo - I mean, Raegan, are you okay in there?”

“YEAH, I’M FINE,” Rae shouted back. “JUST QUEASY.”  _ Best to keep this to myself for now. _

“Oh, alright then,” Amy responded. “Well, if you’re feeling up for it, tacos are ready downstairs.”

Quick as a flash, Rae had opened the door and was staring at Amy. “Yes, please. My stomach is going to start digesting itself if I don’t get some food soon.”

Amy smiled. “Downstairs we go. Your tacos await.” Rae giggled and followed Amy down the stairs.

Within minutes, the four of them were chowing down on soft-shell tacos brimming with meat and sauce. No one spoke while they ate, and a feeling of discomfort lay just below the surface of the silence. When all the plates were cleared, Amy collected them and loaded them in the dishwasher. As she sat back down she sighed. “So Rae. Are you feeling better? Generally, when one of my children runs off to the bathroom…” Her gaze flicked to Anna. “…it doesn’t end well.”

Rae felt the panic rising in her chest again, but she took a deep breath and forced it down. “Well…” The words stuck in her throat. She took a sip of water, cleared her throat, and started again. “Well, when I went in the bathroom, I kind of…uh…heard voices?” She looked apprehensively up at the other three, who were staring blankly at her. She pressed on. “The voices, they seemed to have something to say…maybe a prophecy?” She paused to think for a moment. “I think they were telling me the way to get back to my world.”

The others collectively gasped. “Well, tell us then!” The three dissolved into babble. “What can we do? How long is it gonna take? When do you leave?”

“OKAY PAUSE!” Rae shouted above the confusion. “Look,” she began. “I don’t have all the answers, I have a lot of questions myself. I can’t answer your questions right now. I really think I need to just sleep on it.”

“Oh my gosh, of course,” Amy replied. “I can’t imagine how overwhelmed you must be. Anything you need, we’d be happy to provide.” 

Rae looked at each of them in turn. Amy, a mother figure she had known for less than a day. Anna, the sister she never had. And Christopher, the little energy ball with the brutal honesty. She smiled, albeit a little sadly. This was as close to a family as she was ever going to get. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, truly. I just-” A huge yawn cut her off mid-sentence.

“Alright, bedtime. Now.” Amy herded the barely-awake Rae up the stairs and into her room, turning off the lights as she went. Rae barely made it into bed before she was sound asleep, head full of plans for the future.

_ Don’t worry Arlo. I’ll be home soon. _


	5. Chapter 5

“Abbabaa… Esheshe… WHAT?!” Jordan was speechless, unable to comprehend the person sitting before her. Arlo’s full lips quirked upward, amused with the utterly confounded girl inhabiting her girlfriend’s body.

“I’m going to guess you’re confused,” Arlo said. “So let me provide you a little bit of context. Or rather,” she continued, turning to Farryn’s mount. “I’ll let him do it.” Arlo snapped her fingers and gestured to River.

Jordan’s eyes widened as the beautiful Arabian’s figure contracted and expanded until a handsome young boy stood before them. He looked about 12, with a slender frame, pale skin, and thin brown hair. He stretched his arms skyward and let out a small groan. “Wow, it feels good to stretch my arms.” He patted himself down, smoothing the wrinkles in his forest green cloak. As he unclasped the button at his throat, the dark fabric swished away to reveal a simple outfit of a red turtleneck and dark blue jeans. River ran a hand through his hair and turned to Farryn. “Do you have any food? I could  _ totally _ go for a caramel apple right now.”

Arlo rolled her eyes as Farryn doubled over in laughter. “River. Focus.” Arlo said sternly. “Information first, then food.”

River pouted and made puppy dog eyes. Arlo returned his gaze with a stony glare. River heaved a big sigh. “Fine…” He turned to Jordan. “Arlo is the singular reason you haven’t died yet. You should thank her.” He turned back to the other girl. “Can I have my caramel apple now?”

Arlo let out a low, throaty growl. “Not yet. Tell her how the hell she’s going to get out of here or I swear to all the gods I will turn you back into a horse and tear your mane out hair by hair! Am I understood?”

River, now cowering behind Jordan, nodded his head. He emerged from behind her and bowed his head. “I’m sorry miss. I’m just very hungry. Adolescence, you know?” He shuffled his left foot around in circles. “I’d love to tell you what’s going on now. If that’s ok with you.”

Jordan smiled warmly. “I’d love to hear you tell me what is happening.”

River perked up. “Really? Alright!” He sat down on the carpet and patted the space next to him. Jordan lowered herself onto the plush fabric and turned toward River. He smiled at her. “This will only take a moment,” He reassured. He closed his eyes, and almost instantly began to hover about 4 inches above the carpet. As his eyelids lifted again, pure black pools of ink bored into Jordan. She screamed and clambered backward, appalled at what this adorable 12-year-old had become. A horrible pale green mist emerged from his mouth and surrounded him, and a rasping chant began to fill the room.

 

_ Champion of Nature, you’ve fought far too long _

_ To return to your world, you must heed this song. _

_ Go on from here to the bamboo spires _

_ Climb to the top and watch for the fires. _

_ There find the spring of eternal pain _

_ And witness a sacrifice solely in vain. _

_ A deal you’ll make with an ancient evil, _

_ Who’ll send you on a quest for retrieval. _

_ And when the relic is found again _

_ Return back here to the devil’s den _

_ Once you are done and returned to me, _

_ Then you shall once more be free. _

 

Just as suddenly as it had started, the voice stopped. River flopped back to the floor, limp as a ragdoll. The green mist vanished, leaving behind no trace of the voices that had just plagued him. Arlo mechanically grabbed a small brown bottle from the corner of the desk. She moved as if horse-boys transforming into oracles was a completely normal occurrence. Jordan stared in awe as Arlo dribbled some of the liquid into River’s mouth. His eyes fluttered open, and almost immediately he sat up. “Did I do it?” He looked up at the girls’ faces, eyes hopeful.

“Yes, little one. You did it. And I am very proud of you.” River beamed with pride at Arlo’s praise. Jordan marveled at this odd pair, developed far beyond what she had ever imagined for them. As River struggled to his feet, Jordan made her way back to Farryn. “I guess we have our work cut out for us now.”

“That we do,” Farryn said. “We should probably be heading out soon, these two 

can handle themselves.” Jordan nodded, still a little shellshocked from the whole  _ my-savior-slash-friend’s-horse-is-also-a-human-and-oh-by-the-way-also-a-black-eyed-green-mist-spewing-oracle-demon-thing-because-that-makes-total-sense _ . She and Farryn turned to leave, but River noticed.

“Wait,” he coughed weakly. “I want to come with you.” Farryn glanced at Arlo, doubt filling her gaze. Arlo turned towards River, her concern for him apparent.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I don’t know if you’re strong enough yet.” As she finished her question, River stood shakily.

“Their journey will be much easier if I can transport them.” He turned to Arlo, his eyes filled with determination. “Turn me back.”

Arlo shook her head. “I don’t know-”

“I WASN’T ASKING!” River shouted. He took a calming breath and squeezed his eyes shut. “Please. I don’t ask much. Let me help them.”

Arlo stared at River for a long second, then eventually sighed. “I suppose I can’t protect you forever. Be free, my child.” She snapped her fingers once again. River’s slim figure stretched and compressed until Farryn’s faithful steed stood in front of the pair once more. Arlo stood up and walked to the cherry wood desk. She sank into the plush chair and placed her head in her hands, obviously heartbroken at River’s departure. 

“That’s our cue to leave,” Farryn murmured to Jordan.

“Where?” Jordan muttered back. The entrance they had used had melted back to a solid wall.

“The elevator is right there,” Arlo interjected flatly. Her long, tan finger pointed to a place on the opposite wall that shimmered with silver light. A door materialized, and the two halves parted to reveal an ornate elevator car. “Just push the button on the wall, it will take you to where you need to be.” Farryn nodded and led River to the elevator. She motioned for Jordan to follow. Jordan looked over her shoulder at Arlo. She suddenly rushed back and wrapped her arms around the girl at the desk. Arlo stiffened up, but eventually loosened and hugged back. “I don’t have much time left,” she muttered. Jordan suddenly noticed that Arlo’s fingers were disintegrating and drifting away. “Good luck Ra-I mean… Jordan.” Jordan gave a small, sad smile and boarded the elevator. The last thing the two girls saw before the doors closed was Arlo at the desk, slowly dissolving into nothing.


End file.
